


Down by the Shore

by Lucifuge5



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-19
Updated: 2010-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:26:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifuge5/pseuds/Lucifuge5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The goo had the consistency of warm honey, which did nothing to quell his ache for Leoben.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down by the Shore

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings/Spoilers: Cylon/Cylon 'ship. Spoilers for the third season of BSG.
> 
> Inspired by one of the C6DVD cards I made for Akamine_chan. Betaed by the awesome Exbex . Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Leoben dipped his fingers in the liquid while waiting for the slumbering Leoben to finish downloading. The goo had the consistency of warm honey, which did nothing to quell his ache for Leoben. Unlike the always cold outside, this room's temperature was permanently warm and humid. It was that very pleasant environment that fed the feeling of permissiveness inside of him. Leoben slid his hands a little deeper into the translucent ooze, easing the muscles in his right shoulder so as not to strain it, until his fingers could graze a light pink nipple.

He was grateful for this short moment of solitude. Many Cylons were concentrating on establishing the new rules for New Caprica. Most of his own model kept their focus on Kara Thrace, unshakeable and relentless in their shared obsession. _His_ Leoben, however, had a force of will that outshone all the other Twos. He would keep trying to win Kara's affections.

_Trying and dying for it_, Leoben thought with a bitter twist of his mouth. For a second, he had the impulse to pinch Leoben's nipple hard enough to hurt. To punish Leoben's stubbornness as well as his own. It had been three, no, four times being killed by her.

He spread his hand on Leoben's chest instead, almost-caressing the muscles as they rose and fell with each breath. To anyone else, the contact would not read as erotic but fraternal, which was terribly important for what he was about to do.

Despite the fact that their religion didn't actually forbid it, the majority of Cylons were uncomfortable when two members of the same model would have more than a rare and casual encounter with one another. Every Cylon model had a program directive that determined each model's copies following certain paths no matter how painful the journey. To stray meant the pull of individuality overriding the will of the many, which led to whispers of suspicion and disapproval, and less trust to that copy's vote.

A Three had hinted at the latter a few days back when Leoben, relaxed from a yoga session and a through massage from a Six, had slipped up and _openly_ questioned the price of keeping Kara Thrace alive.

"Isn't that what all of you Twos are predisposed to do?" Three gave him a carefree smile meant to be warm. However, it was too detached. Her eyes weren't really looking at him. They were assessing him as an ally or an enemy—for all the other Cylon models knew of the Threes' never-sated ambition.

Three's face grew feral. "I've yet to meet a Two who doesn't want to fulfill your model and Kara's intertwined destinies."

He snorted. "Destiny gets rewritten every second of every day. I was just wondering if Leoben doesn't want to switch places. He must be getting tired of dying. That's all." He shrugged and walked out of the hybrid's room, making sure that all Three could _see_ was exhaustion and not _jealousy_.

*****

Leoben closed his eyes as his hand traveled down to the waist before reaching back up to the throat. He always liked to feel Leoben's pulse, slow heartbeat after slow heartbeat. It was one of the few times he didn't seek out patterns or pondered on the flow of things. He simply let his own consciousness enter a convergence with the thump-thump coming through the tip of his fingers. Each beat became one more rung on a ladder and like droplets of rain he let himself go all the way in.

Soon he was able to project himself at the Ragnar Anchorage and see himself fight Commander Adama. He studied the arch his arm made before he punched Adama again and again, as he patiently waited for that slight buzz that signaled the second entrance. This was the easiest part.

Leoben felt, rather than heard, the door opening. He fought through the momentary fragmentation that always happened when he did a projection-within-a-projection. Every inch of his body stung, as if by a million bees, between one blink and the next and the next and the next. But what lay behind that second door was worth an eternity of agony.

To his knowledge there had never been, nor was there now, another Cylon who could do what he did. _Maybe one of the Final Five could_, he mused. Or maybe this too was part of him being an anomaly in a universe of wonders. He closed his eyes once he reached the door and focused on the distant waves.

*****

It is always now and always summer in this place. For a second, Leoben thinks he hasn't quite gotten there yet. Pushing that fear down, he inhales and exhales as brine-scented air fills his lungs.

He knows he is lying on a dark blue towel, skin warm from the early afternoon sun and wet from the ocean. Blinking his eyes open, he turns his head to the side and gives Leoben a completely open smile. Both of them are naked, enjoying the solitude of their beach and the roar of the waves.

Leoben turns to him. "I was starting to miss you."

He lifts a hand and cups Leoben's face. "I always follow the current back to you, brother. You should know that by now." Closing his eyes, he leans to his right, letting gravity carry him until his body is on top of Leoben's. Legs intertwined, their bodies slide against one another and he has to stop _feeling_ for a breath unless he wants to come much sooner than he would want to. It took a lot to get here.

He angles his head, the better to kiss Leoben, and gives in once he feels the vibration of Leoben's muffled groan.

His tongue slides in without much difficulty as he presses his hard cock against Leoben's own solid one. He holds Leoben's head as a sensual heat coils inside of him. His body trembles when Leoben's hands snake down to cup his bottom and tease him open. Leoben moves his head to the side, breaking the kiss.

He spies the bottle of lube half buried in the black sand and raises both eyebrows as he looks at Leoben, questioning.

Leoben stares back as he stretches an arm out and grabs the bottle.

In response, he closes his eyes once again and gasps when he hears Leoben flick the bottle open. Dropping his head, he nibbles Leoben's ear and spreads his legs a little wider apart.

Soon, Leoben's fingers—now cool and slick—begin to draw lazy circles at his core. There is always time for the next part and yet, not enough.

He is beginning to see every blueprint that has existed and will exist. So bright is his joy at this very moment.

Suddenly, Leoben's finger is inside, stretching him and it's all he can do not to lose himself in the pleasure, in this communion.

He is home.


End file.
